Day 191 – Simmer – Where It Ends – Short Story

“P-P-Please, please don’t, th-there must be something I can do for you, anything?” He screams.

“Come now, you know the answer, you know what is at stake. You know the only thing I need from you, is what I’m already taking, for your sacrifice, your life, will save us all.”

“My sacrifice? I never volunteer for this, this is murder, can’t you all see? Now, let me go, or so help me I’ll haunt everyone of you from the grave!”

“Don’t be so over dramatic Lloyd, you were the one who brought the idea to us, you helped show us how to survive. It’s only fitting that you be the one to fulfill it, to save everyone,” he says as the knife glimmers in the soft candle light.

“Bullshit, I should be celebrated, worshipped, not threatened and abused like this. You should bow before me and lick my feet!” He yells, as he struggle to free himself for the bindings.

He laughs, “You are a deluded old man, worthless, the only time you’ve ever been of any use to anyone is on this day, to be here, to give your life, so everyone one else, people worthy of living, do so.”

“You can’t, please Eric, I beg of you, doing this will be a mistake that cannot be undone, my lif….” But he does not get to finish, as he drive the blade deep into his chest, the two lock eyes, and, he smiles.

“I’ll tell you a secret Lloyd, I’ve always wanted to do this to you,” he says as he twists the blade and Lloyd’s head falls limp, lifeless. “To all, death claims us, funny that yours should actually be of some use, you sn….” He stops mid-sentence, his left eye twitches and his lip trembles, as Lloyd raises his head, a broad smile on his face.

“He did try to warn you,” he says, his voice distorted, he stands up, ripping easily from the ropes that bound him down, and he takes a powerful step forward, Eric falls to his knees, tears running down his face, the bloody blade drops to the ground.

“W-W-What, what are y-you?”

He laughs, “If you had kept poor Lloyd alive, you would’ve known, but, instead, let me show you,” he says as he reaches out and digs a clawed finger into Eric’s forehead and rips a a strip of flesh from his face, he screams in agony, and once more, he laughs. “Oh, we are going to have fun, I can tell,” he says, as he grips another piece of skin and pulls.

To challenge oneself to 365 days of creation, giving myself one hour a day to write, thirty minutes to edit and then post the story and see where it leads. I'll also throw in excerpts of a novel I'm working or as well, which is how the short stories started in the first place, as a way to exorcise all the little, crazy stories that wouldn't fit anywhere out of my head, so, I hope you enjoy the trip. I should note, that all stories are created and owned by myself, if you like something and want to share it please do, share away, But if you want to feature it on your site or jumble something into an anthology please ensure you contact me first so we can discuss it like adults and not children who do not understand how the world works.

Welcome to the Rivers of Grue. I am the Keeper of the Crimson Quill and within these pages you will find a smorgasbord of different offerings ranging from fiction, introspective, and poetry, to film appraisals. There is absolutely no censorship and it is my aim to immerse the addressee through audio and visual stimulation, as well as my inimitable brand of prose. I trust you will enjoy your stay!